Melon Jokes: It's Not Over
by Missy Jade
Summary: Babe doesn't take hints. Dixie does what she has to do. An attempt at a wedding completely falls apart. Derek finds his job really exhausting. You know, things happen.
1. Godzilla In Heels

_Title: Melon Jokes  
Rating: R (language, insanity, sexuality)  
Characters: Tad, Dixie, Adam, Brooke, JR, Erin, Ryan, Kendall, Leo, Greenlee, Bianca, Jamie, Di, Babe and KWAK!  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, do you think we'd be watching this crap if I did?  
Timeline: There is no timeline, bwahahaha! A crackfic in it's purest form!  
Notes: Some things from AMC never happened, see Babygate and Dixie and Leo's "deaths" and a few other things, and some things did but in a different form, see Rylee and quite a few storylines... I just need some way to shed my stress over the joke that my beloved soap has become...  
Teaser: Insanity is truly the tie that binds..._

_-  
_

_Prologue:_

_"You have no right to hold me, you know."_

_Derek Frye paused with his cup of cold coffee half to his lips, eyes lifting to settle on a deeply irritated looking Dixie Cooney, sitting there looking like somebody had stuffed her in a giant green pepper. "There are two women in the hospital because of you," he drawled, and then paused, grimacing as he took a long swallow of the so-called coffee. "Not to mention the fact that the rest of the wedding party's either been put away or are also in the hospital."_

_"That's not my fault."_

_Derek thought of long-legged Mrs. Hart-Lavery and Mrs. du Pres, now sharing a cell as they compared bruises and battle tales; he had heard them when he had gone in to check on Dani, and his soul had shriveled in an awed kind of horror. Already, their husbands were attempting to break them out, and Derek gave them only an hour or two before the Dirty Duo were back out on the streets, terrorizing the town like Godzilla in heels._

_Or, well, two—_

_Wait, what was the plural of Godzilla?_

_"You can't hold me," Dixie repeated more angrily, and he rolled his eyes helplessly, draining his coffee with a shudder up his spine. "You caused thousands of dollars worth of damage, Dixie—" He paused and scowled, shooting her an evil eye. "Do you have any idea how long it'll take the Valley Inn to rebuild?" he demanded heatedly, and she tossed her hair—a mess of blonde hair smeared with champagne and wedding cake—in a decidedly Erica Kane matter._

_"Derek! Derek Frye!"_

_Speak of the devil—_

_And the door was practically kicked in as Erica Kane burst in, looking a bit better for the wear than Dixie, even with the broken heel and torn dress, manicured nails cracked and dirty with food and mud and something that looked like a bra strap dangling around one arm. "Derek!" she shrieked and waved angrily in Dixie's direction, the very first of the Godzilla monsters in heels. "What do you think you're doing?! Let Kendall out this instant—"_

_"And Greenlee," Jackson interjected and Erica waved her hand again, almost smacking her husband in the face, an impressive feat considering the height difference. He looked better than any of the others, which was to be expected considering the fact that he had been in charge of handling the children at the time of the upheaval._

_"Yes, yes, of course, and Greenlee," Erica snapped, and settled a hard stare on Derek._

_This day was just getting better, wasn't it?_

_"I have to go home," Dixie exploded, and began smacking the table rather savagely, scowling at him. "I need to get your story," Derek drawled, and tapped his notepad with his pen. "After that, we'll get something set up." He stopped, tossed a wary glance at Erica, tapping her heelless shoe against the floor furiously. "After this," he stated, and Erica narrowed her eyes, mouth quirking into a tight frown._

_"Babe Carey started this!" Dixie blurted out, and Derek closed his eyes, reaching up to press fingertips into his eyelids, worn down by all of it. "I know," he growled, resisting the urge to bang his head on the table, feeling Erica's glare bore into his skull. "I'm not arresting you," he added exhaustedly, and Dixie snorted, tossing once blonde hair over a shoulder and leaning back in her chair angrily. "I just need to know how this all started, Dixie."_

_"I said, Babe Carey—"_

_"No, Dixie, when did this start?" he asked heatedly, and gestured furiously around them all with one hand, finding Dixie going still, eyes flickering with wariness. "Um," she murmured finally, and Erica cocked an eyebrow at her, looking suddenly rapt with attention. To Derek's tired amusement, Jack looked just as fascinated, staring intensely at the small women. "Well?"_

_"I think… I mean…" Dixie hesitated, licked her lips, threw a nervous glance over one shoulder, as if certain a reporter was standing there— "Do you remember… that… incident, in the grocery store with, um, the, um…?" She fluttered her hands around her chest and Derek's eyebrows suddenly shot up in remembrance. "Oh, the… incident?" he finished lamely, and she gave a jerky little nod, bright red in the face. "After that, I think… I mean, that's when JR and Erin… got engaged…"_

_"Yes, I remember," he grinned, and her lips twitched even as she glared at him. He was aware of Erica and Jackson pulling two chairs up to the table and taking their seats, now completely fascinated, but Dixie didn't seem to care, still looking flustered. Remembering the media frenzy and the pictures on the tabloids, only more frenzied after the Chandler engagement had broken just hours later, he coughed awkwardly, remembering the army of reporters surrounding the station. "I think it started right after that," she sighed tiredly, and he nodded, flipping to a fresh piece of paper and starting his notes._

_"And then?" Derek prodded carefully, feeling strangely excited about the thought of hearing the tale itself from sources outside of the officers that had first been on the scene. Across from him, Dixie snorted, rolling her eyes and waving one arm in irritation— "And then Babe Carey stuck herself in my family again, as always. It's all her fault." She paused, snorted again, more angrily, looking like a petite bull wrapped in lettuce leaves. "And Tad's too, for the record."_


	2. Cucumber

_One:_

-

Dixie looked like someone had run over her dog

If Tad hadn't known the reason behind the look, he would have been feeling that ache inside he always felt when he saw such unhappy emotion on her face. When she hurt, he hurt, and it was the other way around. At the moment, though, his cheeks hurt from trying not to laugh and his eyes burned slightly, and it was almost too much.

"You don't have to find it so funny."

"It's your color, really."

Dixie, squashed into what looked like a tent in a bright green shade, just gave him an evil eye. He bit his tongue, quickly gulping down a bit of his, well, Big Gulp. "I think Erin's a fan of green," his tiny ex-wife noted needlessly, and he chugged down more of Pepsi, watching her stare at her reflection glumly. "I look like a watermelon."

"Nah, you look like a cucumber."

This time, she gave him a stink-eye, crossing arms over the loopy bow on her stomach.

"I have become immune to your evil stares," he chirped, and gave her a salute with his massive soda.

"Shut up."

"Don't want to, it's too funny."

"I thought you were here for moral support," she scowled, looking even tinier than she was as she waddled her way off the stool and proceeded to try to wrestle the dress off. "I am," he assured her, and absently steadied her with a leg when, in an attempt to step out of the dress, she began tilting precariously to the side. "You call this moral support?"

"At least I'm not laughing outright."

"Maybe it would be better if you did," she muttered, brow wrinkled as she stared at the next piece, seemingly not bothered by standing in front of him in her lingerie. He certainly didn't mind, no, not at all—Oh, yay, she was bending again! "I mean, when I put on that one with the orange trim, you sounded like you were dying, trying to hold it in."

"It was funny."

"You think everything's funny."

"Everything is."

"Uh-huh," she drawled, and started wrestling the next dress up her legs, a truly blinding mix of lime green and fire engine red, decorated all over with bows and loops of lace. "Who designs these things?" she asked him, but received nothing except a soft grunt, glancing over her shoulder to find him frozen, eyes wide and glued to her back end. "You're pathetic."

"Uh-huh," he agreed, and nodded solemnly enough that she gave a little shake as a reward.

"This whole unofficial thing is fun," she snickered to herself, struggling to get the sleeves up and nearly blinding herself in the process when they whipped up into her face. "And it's funny, the way your eyes bug out like that," she added, and he nodded again, completely in agreement. "That said, I think I hate my son's fiancé," she sighed, catching sight of herself in the mirror.

"Erin's a sweetheart, and you love her, don't deny it—"

"What kind of woman thinks _this_—" and she swept a hand across her form dramatically, "is the kind of thing for someone to wear at a wedding?" She looked atrocious, she knew: the fabric bulged horribly around her middle and the bows kept smacking her arms when she moved, giving the impression that tie-dye bats were attacking her. "I look like a sunburned leprechaun!"

"I seem to remember you looking like a swirl of pink cotton candy during one of our weddings—"

"Shut up," she snapped and gave him a stare that should have flayed him alive but he just smiled brightly, popping another handful of M&Ms into his mouth and chewing happily. "Here," she finally muttered, and held out her arms, allowing him to give her a long look, eyes sliding up and down her figure. "Tad?" she demanded, and he shook his head slowly, looking honestly traumatized by the sight of her.

Catching her reflection, she couldn't blame him, not at all—

"Oh, it's so perfect!"

Dixie snapped her head around, found Erin standing there, looking like she had just come just gotten what she had asked Santa for. It was rare for Erin to look so completely joyous, so Dixie stood there, smile frozen on her face as Erin rushed into the changing room, circling Dixie excitedly. "Oh, Mom, it's so beautiful and it brings out your eyes—" Dixie knew full well she had blue eyes and so blinked in confusion at the young woman. "—and you look stunning."

Erin and JR hadn't even tied the knot yet, and already, Dixie was Mom.

Dixie thought about the family she had grown up with, and couldn't help but sigh when Erin flung her arms up around her, squealing excitedly. Erin had no fashion sense whatsoever, was the clumsiest girl in the town, and was helplessly dense when it came to things like actual dating tricks— but she was downright giddy these days, light-hearted in a way that probably would never have happened if they all hadn't found each other.

And Dixie couldn't help but love her for it all.

-

Babe Carey couldn't help but hate Erin Lavery.

Ever since she had rode into town with her brothers when Ryan Lavery came back around as a little prince of Cambias, offering a little shoulder to cry on when her marriage to Paul had come out, she'd been wrecking Babe's life right and left. Not only had she gotten her and Mama tossed out onto the streets, she'd stolen JR from her.

And then her stupid brother had stolen Jamie from her!

Erin Lavery, Babe Carey was firmly convinced, was the bane of her blonde existence.

And now, they were getting _married_.

The thought of it literally turned Babe's stomach, and the realization of what it meant had caused her to pass out when she'd first woken to read it on the front of the tabloids. Mama had tried to catch her, but she'd dropped too fast, Mama had said, and she'd ended up holding a frozen pack of chicken fingers to her forehead for a few hours while she grieved her loss.

Her loss being JR, of course, not his money, not at all.

"Maybe it's for the best, I mean… maybe it is."

"JR and I are meant to be together, Mama!"

Her mother made an odd face, and glances sideways at the towering pile of cheap romance novels beside Babe's bed, lifting one eyebrow doubtfully. "I don't know…" she started, but jumped when Babe flung the soggy chicken fingers across the room, the drama of the moment lost when they splattered against the stained wall. "We're meant to be together forever!"

There was a sudden crack of thunder and Krystal frowned, glancing out the window at the brilliant sunlight.

"It's not fair!" she continued, not picking up on her mother's worried look, and stomped to the table where the tabloids rested, news of the upcoming Chandler nuptials squished between the discovery of a long-lost Martin cousin and Reggie Porter-Montgomery's joyful return to his hometown following his near-death accident involving a fake basketball camp and a money laundering scheme. "I can make him happy, Mama!"

"Where is all this thunder coming from?" Krystal demanded, peering out through the glass at the sunny day.

"Look at her, Mama! She's not capable of being a Chandler, not like I am!"

"Oh, my leaping frogs, is that hail?"

-

\In the end, despite everything they had all been through together— a near marriage between Ryan and Greenlee before Leo had saved them all, a baby-stealing mystery that had ended in Greenlee and Kendall accidentally going off a balcony during a fight over who had the better man, trying and failing to get the Careys thrown in jail, and even managing to find Trey a real woman— Leo and Ryan would forever be just The Husbands.

This title wasn't a bad thing, exactly, but the whole town knew who carried the Gucci bags.

To their credit, they had come to enjoy this—while their wives ran their multi-billion dollar company out of a single office, they got to stay home all day and watch the kids and watch football and, at times, exchange That Time of the Month horror stories. Leo and Ryan understood each other, connected as the lesser partners of the real super-couple that made them who they were— Kendall and Greenlee, the walking stick and the adorably bitchy midget, defining the word "friendship" in fascinating new ways every single day.

Life with their wives was never boring, especially when their beloved and not-quite-sane wives black-mailed them into secret missions to help their company survive. At the moment, the two men stood together in the bright sunlight in their best burglar outfits, peering up at the window some feet above them, taunting them.

"Why are we doing this?"

"Because they can withhold sex."

"We can just do a striptease, that always works."

"You're getting flabby in your old age."

"So are you."

"Shut up."

A long moment of silence settled on the two men as they peered up at their mission before, grimacing unhappily, Leo strode forward and crouched. "Up," he ordered with a scowl, even thought he didn't need to— they had gotten very good at this. Stepping hard up into Leo's palm, Ryan pushed himself up firmly, catching the windowsill and snatching his tools out of his pocket, hurriedly getting to work on the lock. "Why don't we just hire ourselves some criminals or something?"

"Because they always laugh at us, remember?"

"Oh, yeah…"

"Stop digging your feet into me! God, it never hurts this bad when I'm assisting Greens in a breaking and entering!"

"I'm very sorry I'm not as tiny as your precious little wife!"

"Says he who married the walking, talking stick?!"

"Are you mocking my wife?!"

"Just get the freaking window open!"

"I'm working on it— Son of a bitch, Jon!"

"Ah, shit…" and Leo slowly tilted his head back to take in Ryan's younger brother, head sticking pleasantly out the window and waving brightly. "What the Hell are you doing here?" he demanded, and the younger Curry gave a short snort of amusement, reaching out and dragging his older brother up and into the room. "Mags sent us to steal a few formulas."

"Us?"

Jamie Martin stuck his head out and waved gaily, enough that Leo rolled his eyes and stuck his hands up, pushing his feet against the brick wall as they hauled him up and promptly dropped him right to the floor. "Does your father know what you're doing?"

"I don't know," and he went back to stuffing a bunch of folders into a big leather bag.

Jon and Jamie were, indeed, a strange… well, Leo wasn't completely sure what they were, but they seemed more at ease than anybody else in town. "I take it the Kenlee sent you?"

"What's a Kenlee?" Jamie asked curiously, and Jon shook his head, grinning wickedly. "Kendall and Greenlee?"

"Oh," and he nodded and went back to working.

"What are you here for?"

"Something for Maggie," Jon whispered mysteriously, and waved his fingers in their faces with a quiet chuckle of amusement. "How the hell did you get in here?" Ryan hissed, and Jon snorted, unhooking a pair of keys from his belt and jingling them mockingly. "You know how much Simone adores me, right? She said I could have a few things as long as I show up on her arm at that gala in a few weeks."

Jamie, Leo noticed, looked extremely unhappy about this fact.

"You're cheating."

"No, I'm using the tools at my disposal."

"Cheater," Leo snapped, and glared at him.

"You're not really going to go with Simone, are you?" Jamie asked, and Jon looked over one shoulder. Neither Leo nor Ryan could see whatever face he made, but Jamie suddenly perked up, grinning brightly and going back to his file-gathering with an extra skip in his step. "Erin isn't buying our excuse, by the way."

"What excuse?"

"That we can't cake taste with her on Saturday because we lost the use of our taste buds."

"Did you show her the diagrams?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Excuse me?"

Jon and Ryan looked quickly over to Leo, who waved vaguely around them. "Files, for our wives?"

"Oh, yeah…"

"I'll see you on Saturday?"

"I'll be there!"

The two younger men left, were gone for a few minutes before— "Son of a bitch, they took our files!"


End file.
